


Duty and Sin

by DKTakes12



Series: Duty and Sin [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV, Kingsglaive
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-04-14 10:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14133870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DKTakes12/pseuds/DKTakes12
Summary: A Princess should not fall in love with a soldier, especially while betrothed. But when the Gods present her with a chance, something other than duty and fate, Lady Lunafreya willingly allows herself to be caught in a gaze of cooling steel and scarred hands. Why not grasp happiness before duty takes her?





	1. Duty and Sin

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a long running fic set directly in the film Kingsglaive. Slow burn romance for the win boys, girls, and other lovelies <3 
> 
> Do I know how many chapters it'll be? No. But it's gonna end sad my friends, so if ya' want a wildly tragic ride, this it gonna be right up your alley. It may not feel T now, but it's gonna get there. Might hit M. We'll see.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Princess should not fall in love with a soldier, especially while betrothed. But when the Gods present her with a chance, something other than duty and fate, Lady Lunafreya willingly allows herself to be caught in a gaze of cooling steel and scarred hands. Why not grasp happiness before duty takes her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This'll be a slow burn fic set directly in the cannon of Kingsglaive. Warnings for tragic ending, I'm planning on following the cannon all the way through. 
> 
> The dialogue for this chapter was taken directly from the fireworks scene in Kingsglaive. This'll be the one and only time that I nab dialogue (the fireworks scene has my heart, good jeez). Planned updates every Wednesday?

Fireworks bolted across the sky, the sharp pop and sizzle almost enough to drown out the beat of her own heart in her throat. Tension sung through the marrow of Lunafreya’s bones. He was right there, standing at a solid attention with his hands clasped behind his back. His hands were so worn from battle that she could feel the ache in his knuckles without knowing the pain herself and could trace every nick and scar from his fingertips to his wrist. A crownsguard uniform covered his skin and tightened across his shoulders, had she expected anything else? She met him once before, adorned in the same uniform that seemed built for the man instead of worn by him. Even in the throne room, in front of King Regis, she could feel his eyes on her. A burn at the base of her neck, one that was surprisingly pleasant. Every part of her ached to see him again, even for a moment, and here she was standing a few feet behind him. She had come with a question but the sight of him...it tore her thoughts away in a whirlwind gale. Her breath caught in her throat. The stiffness in his spine, the strength in his hips, there was a burden in his chest and he carried it like a warrior of old. His head high even though his homeland, Galahad if the tattoos spoke truth, would no longer be his or his King's.

A part of her wanted to join him, to twine her hand with his and stand beside him. Even if she had own strength to lend, her own burden as Oracle had made its home in her heart and head, she would attempt to be a pillar for him to lean on. She could - _no. Stop these pointless thoughts before they lead to something._

Why was she feeling this way? She had sought him out for one reason and one reason only, she knew him and he would help her find another soldier to thank. And she used ‘knew’ in the loosest of senses; he was known in a single soft moment of her life. There was no reason for the nervous patter of her heart of the thrumming song of panic and knots in her veins. So he was an attractive man, there were many others that she had seen over the years and one pretty face would not have her stray from her duty.

She shook the raging tide of thoughts out of her head and worked up her courage. He was a soldier, she was a Princess, and she would aquire her answer and move on with her life. It was simple. It was a path she always followed. There was no longing in her chest and she was not waiting for impossibilities with baited breath. These thoughts were meant for teenage girls, not women with Gods and Kingdoms a balanced weight in their palms. She would face him as Princess Lunafreya and nothing more. She took a step forward, the click of her heel on marble stone harsher than the sound of fireworks.

But he didn't even flinch as she stepped into place beside him; the only movement the shift of his hair in the stiff breeze and a subtle looseness in his knees.

"Hello." Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking and she held them, trying to hide her own confusion at bay. _You are betrothed._ She knew that. The swift beat of her heart meant nothing. She focused ahead of her, the shifting guests at each white clothed table and the steam rising from plates heaped with delicacies she had already tasted a thousand times. “I’m afraid we were never properly introduced yesterday.” What she wouldn't do for a glass of champagne in her hands to ease the unnecessary trembles in her stomach.

He barely glanced at her, eyes the stiff grey blue of cooling steel. He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment before shifting to look at her fully. She was forced to meet his gaze, and almost immediately lost herself.

He cleared his throat and a dark brown braid slipped over his shoulder from the force. “I’m afraid it’s going to have to wait, your Highness. I’m on guard duty.” Acid laced his tongue. She prayed it wasn’t directed at her, but still it stung. Why was she so enraptured with this soldier? Looks were nothing and they had only briefly spoken. The pounding in her chest... _Betrothed, to the Prince of Insomnia._ But at a soldier's side, after so long in captivity, she finally felt safe. Noctis never provided her with this. Fate, the Astrals, gave her a path to walk but never once did they give her comfort.

She focused forward again, this time at the band across the way with silk finery and strings. She was at ease, despite the unforgiving tension of her confusing thoughts, and the words were out before she could stop them. “Than surely there’s no safer place for me to be.” Her breath left her; immediately she wanted to reel the words back in and swallow them. What had come over her? This wasn't how a Princess, how _she_ behaved!

She caught herself staring at the curve of his jaw and the pull of his lips.

He was smiling. A brief smile, one that shifted away all to quickly as he focused back on the King and his company, but it was a smile none the less.

Luna swallowed the building lump in her throat and pretended her hands were not shaking. She clasped them in front of her, caught herself lost in the curve of a tattoo on his inner ear and the length of a thin braid. She needed to pull away from whatever infatuation she was filled with. Lunafreya took a breath to clear her head.

“May I ask your name?” If she had something to pin to him, something other than steel blue and wolfish teeth and scarred hands, perhaps she would be able to pull away. Perhaps she would be able to remember her place in destiny.

He scoffed and shook his head slightly. She had lost whatever ground she had gained with the subtle twist of his gaze, forward and away from her again. He had the right idea. It was better that she leave, forget about this man and the weight on his shoulders tying him to the ground.

She readied her steps to slip away and opened her lips for an apology.

“Uh…Nyx. Nyx Ulric.” Whatever she had done, he had softened to it. He remained turned away and the thrumming tension under his garments only seemed to increase. Something she had done had offended him. It was the last thing she had wanted and she allowed her gaze to drift from his face, down the length of his chest. She watched the flash of fireworks on the gloss buttons on his jacket for far too many moments before latching onto the polished sheen of his boots.

With a shake of her head, she swallowed. There was a real duty for her to be here, a different matter entirely. Something else to focus on besides the fickle leanings of her stubborn heart that refused to obey. “There’s something else I wish to ask, Nyx Ulric." Luna closed her eyes for a moment longer than necessary, enjoying the taste of his name on her tongue. A moment of luxury before she stepped back into the cage provided to her by the Gods at birth. "King Regis said he sent one of your orders to come and find me. I should like to offer my thanks in person. Where might I find this brave soldier?”

Nyx stiffened, mouth opening and closing like a toy with broken springs. The stillness he had moments ago was gone, broken apart by the painful twist of his jaw and the sag in his shoulders. The deflation in his chest, the sudden sheen in his eyes, was enough for Lunafreya to realize her mistake.

There was a reason this soldier had never come to met her. There was a reason why her thanks were unnecessary.

“Oh…” Lunafreya’s heart skipped a beat only to slam back into her ribs. The two of them, Nyx Ulric and herself, were thrown into the tide regardless of what they wanted. And they were both fated to lose so much. There were more scars then the ones on his hands, deeper ones that even she could not ease with the powers given to her. They were both pawns of fate. “Oh I did not…” But, of all the pawns on the board, perhaps the two of them were the ones better off. At least they had lives to live, though hers was not fated to last long. She didn’t know and could no longer tell if they were the ones who were lucky in this.

All she could do was scramble to put her words back in her mouth. “I am so sorry.” It wasn’t enough. Her destiny tainted the very people she contacted even though she was meant for good. She had to be meant for good. Why else would the Gods bless and curse her if she only harmed? The shale on her path was stained with the blood of many, even her own, and nothing but ensuring Noctis reached his throne could change that.

He pressed the tears back and the jerk of his hands tearing apart pulled her from her own troubled thoughts. He reached into his pocket, the glimmer of metal and pearls catching the shifting light. The shadows under his eyes was suddenly apparent, visible in the brightness of the setting sun and the spark of welcoming fireworks. "Here." His voice was tight and heavy in his throat. "She was carrying this. It was meant for you.“

It fell into her hands more than it was placed, the ends of his fingers shaking even though the rest of him struggled to remain taunt and in control. Nyx’s breath hitched in his lungs for a moment, as if he was a clock getting used to functioning without a spring, before he seemed to settle back to stillness and silence.

Lunafreya rolled her thumb gently over the hairpin. "For me?” A large diamond graced the centre, framed by reels of brass and bronze. Smaller crystals arched the upper curve; each one glimmered in the party lights. The design sung with grace and beauty but the sharp twists of bronze hummed a heavier tone, one of protection and strength. A seemingly delicate trinket built on the strength of Eos. A fitting piece for herself and the fallen soldier. A piece she couldn’t bare to take from Nyx. Even she could feel the memories buried deep within the metal and gems. Memories that Nyx himself had placed there, ones of this fallen soldier.

She reached out her hands, cupping the hairpin as if it would snap with the smallest of ill timed breath. She would not be the one to remove such a keepsake from his possession.

He only shook his head, gaze locked forward once again. The broken springs had been forced back inside the thick wall of his chest and she was locked outside of it. “Keep it. She’d’ve wanted you to have it.”

A frown marked her face for a single moment. Perhaps this was fate, calling to her in the smallest of ways and telling her that this feeling in her chest was meant to be. “I’ll carry it with me always.” Lunafreya slipped the prongs delicately into the crown of her hair. It fit perfectly, a glove to her heart and a shield for what was to come. “Thank you.” She would take whatever gifts the Gods provided even if they seemed merely trinkets.

She stayed next to him, a pillar at his side as the sun faded, until she was called to return to her chambers. His face, the curve of his jaw and the twitch of his lips, never left her mind that eve.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunafreya knows she feels something for Nyx but her position as Noctis' betrothed, as the Oracle, tells her that she needs to ignore them. Her happiness does not matter. Not when there are larger, world changing plans, moving around her.   
> But even that knowledge doesn't quell the want in her bones. And a conversation with King Regis may leave her with exactly what she desires.

Lunafreya stood on the balcony of her chambers, hair loose about her shoulders so she could feel the warm spring breeze between the subtle waves. She still wore her night gown but her temporary home was high enough above the masses and she lacked a feeling of indecency. The street lights below flickered off and the rumble of shifting cars, trains, and buses started up. Insomnia was a city that rarely slept but always seemed to wake on time.

              The sun rose, her balcony facing it, and she waited for the cool of night to fade and the warmth to hit her skin. The marble railing under her palms lost its chill and the flooring under her bare feet began to feel almost natural against her soles. She knew she wouldn’t have much time left to enjoy the sun. Time was a limited luxury in her situation. But, she would enjoy the rays every chance she got. Even if it meant rising early to catch the sight of it before the day officially began.

              She turned, twisting back into her pristine room, once the reflection of the barrier stung and burned her eyes. The dresser was filled with the same outfits she always wore, half of them she didn’t recall packing nor did she recall unpacking. They appeared in the dresser as if she had always been here. _Is the life of a Princess that hard?_ No, she supposed it wasn’t.

White silks, black accents, a spark of silver thread or a reel of flowered lace to add a touch of femininity to the black satin sashes that wrapped around her waist, filled the drawers and hangers. Elegant heels lined the bottom shelf, high enough that she should have toddled like a new born spiracorn but she had gotten used to the height and the ache long ago. She ran her fingers against the fabric, imagined how each cut and length fit, pieced together each outfit that she had worn a thousand times before.

_I wonder what he’d like…_

              Nyx Ulric. His face came to her, unbidden, as she slid out of her night gown. The subtle shadow of growth on his cheeks, the way his chest rose and fell under the tight jacket of his uniform. The crooked smirk he had given her once. Would he prefer the darks that seemed so natural against his own skin? Or was the stark contrast, the difference between soldier and Princess, what he wanted? _And if he doesn’t want you?_ Lunafreya frowned. What she wore didn’t matter much, did it? She shouldn’t even be having these thoughts. She was betrothed. He surely had his own partner, his own worries. Perhaps he even had a child.

              She slipped on a simple cream dress. The cloth hugged every curve and a glimmer of silver stitches around her shoulders and bodice accented the bare skin of her collar bones. Lace flowers decorated the hem, stopping just above her knees. She sat at the vanity, pallets of blush and foundation and shadows an organized chaos before her. The glimmer of necklaces, hair pins, silver buckles for her braids, caught and threatened to distract her eye. But, despite the clutter, her gaze immediately latched onto the trinket Nyx Ulric had presented her last night.

              A smile left her as she twisted two braids in her hair and clasped the ends with silver brackets. _I’ll keep it with me always._ A gift she accepted as a memento of a soldier but one she wanted to take as interest from a man. There was a spark, somewhere, between them. A spark she wanted to help fuel. But a part of her knew she shouldn’t and fought against the longing in her bones. She shouldn’t accept this trinket as a sign from the Gods to follow her longing for happiness but…what if it was? What if it was their way of giving her freedom before snatching it away? It could have been a soldier honouring a fallen comrade. But…she wanted it to be something else so badly instead.

              _What if he wants nothing to do with you?_ Then she would simply retreat and slink back into the shadows of the cage provided by her mantel and her duty. _And what if you fall for him?_ She wouldn’t. _But you could. His strength, his crooked smile. The ways his hands lift the world onto his shoulders as if he’s responsible for it all. He is a man who could steal your heart in an instant._ And she was a woman aware that her time was limited and her fate was sealed. She would not fall.

              A knock on her door broke through her thoughts. She jumped slightly, a braid slipping from between her fingers as her heart raced to her throat. Why had she allowed herself to get so wrapped up in these thoughts? It was a trinket. It meant nothing. He means nothing. He is a pretty face that she would not swoon for. She’d stiffen her back and move forward, as she always has.

              “Come in.” The words left her in a breathless rush. Lunafreya needed to gather control of herself. She tightened her hands into fists in her lap for a moment. A deep breath through her nose and she twisted on the chair to face the door.

              Captain Drautos eased into her borrowed room. He fisted a hand over his chest, the other behind his back, and bowed low. “Your Highness.”

              Everything about him spoke of stiffness, restraint, and solitude. His uniform was immaculate, not even the dark of his pants stained with lint or the polish of his boots scuffed from dirt. “And what do I owe the honour of your presence, Captain?” His head didn’t rise until her words ceased hanging in the air. A heavy feeling settled in her chest as if all of this was wrong, as if he belonged somewhere else entirely.

              She took it as an overactive imagination, an unsettled reaction to a night in a sorely unfamiliar yet familiar place.

              “I’m to escort you to a meeting with King Regis. He requested your presence as soon as possible.” Though his face was rough and scarred, Lunafreya could feel the pity in his pale blue eyes. As if he was aware that she was only swapping from one prison to another. As if he knew the truth of the burden she carried on her own thin shoulders.

              She nodded and inclined her head towards the mirror on the vanity. “Of course. A few more minutes at most and I’ll be prepared.” _Escorted by one Empire as prisoner, escorted by another as protection. It’s all the same, isn’t it?_ She turned away, wove her hands back into her hair, and pined the braids in place.

              His boots barely made a sound on the marble as he left. It was the click of the door and the fade of red from the mirror that let her know he was gone. And as soon as he was, the panic hit her chest and her heart threatened to crawl out of her throat. Did someone notice her conversation with Nyx Ulric at the welcoming ball? Perhaps it was intended, a way to keep her bound. She would be banned, stripped, from even a simple friendship with the man. As she should have been. There was Prince Noctis, her duty, the whims of the Astrals. A thousand things were set in place to prevent this relationship from forming. She needed to forget this.

              Her fingers brushed against the hairpiece when she reached for her necklace. A thud of longing twisted in her chest, pounding above the blistering panic, and she allowed herself to feel it for a few moments; just long enough to accept that she felt something for someone other than the man she was betrothed to. Perhaps…perhaps this could be used as a reminder of where her head must be.

              The metal was cool to her fingers and she held it by the teeth as if it would shatter with a wrongly timed breath. She settled the teeth in her hair, nestled among the blonde trestles as if it had always been a part of her. It would not serve as a signal of romance or a sign from the Gods. It would serve as a reminder of the lives lost for her, of the blood on the path she walked, and the duty she would hold above all else.

              _Even yourself?_

Especially herself.

              Lady Lunafreya stood and adjusted her skirts about her waist and thighs. She shifted the placement of diamonds and bronze in her high ponytail and adjusted the simple star and moon chain around her neck. She was a light forward and, even in her eventual but swift coming death, she would lead Noctis to his throne. Regardless of the pain it brought her. Her duty came before all else.

              With her back straightened and her emotions in check and contained, Lunafreya smiled softly in the mirror. _As a Princess should._ If King Regis requested her to leave again she would refuse as she had before. A whisper in her heart told her there was duty to be done here, that something was amiss. Once complete, she would rejoined the True King and ensure he reached his throne.

              Her heels clicked on the marble and the door creaked as she pulled the heavy oak open. She was moving through thickened water, too used to the feel of it to notice she was sinking deeper. Drautos waited outside the door, eyes forward and hands clasped behind his back. The same stance, the same stiffness, as Nyx Ulric in his being. But there was a difference. Ulric stood like a lost man with purpose, one who knew what he was fighting for but not where he was headed. The Captain stood like a man with results behind him, a prediction of what was to come, and a clear home to place his boots and lie his head. Lunafreya only wished she had the same confidence Drautos had in the Empire’s eventual fall.

              “Shall we?” The Captain didn’t wait for a response before leading the way in a flutter of red leather and dark silk. His hands slipped out from behind his back as he strode forward.

              Lunafreya struggled to keep up with his steps; the arches of her soles already ached from the pace. But she was a princess and a princess never voiced complaints. He led her through the twisting pathways of her youth, ones she half remembered, without a single word.

              Here was a corner where she chased Noctis before his injury. She could almost hear the spark of a laugh and the squeal as she caught the tails of his coat. And here, underneath a small shelf, was where the two of them would hide from Ignis when he wanted them to read history books. She stuttered to a stop. His room was just down the hall. She remembered the nights spent by his bedside before the injury. How she would take his hand and pray. Pray for the boy in the bed and the crown that rested so heavily against his brow. The weight he was entirely unaware of carrying and the pain life would surely bring him.

              _Can’t you love him?_ Lunafreya shifted forward, towards the pale white door and blue sheets she knew would be waiting at the head of the curving hall. _You loved him as a child._ Like a brother. She they were intended for each other. But all she could recall was dimpled cheeks and the gap toothed smile of a child. They communicated every once in a while through letters but it felt fake, half done. As if neither of them were particularly interested in the adult lives of the other and longing for the ease of childhood instead.

              “Princess?” The voice, heavy and demanding, snapped her out of her daze.

              Lunafreya glanced over her shoulder and heat rose to her cheeks for half a moment. “My apologies. I became distracted.”

Drautos nodded and tilted his head in the direction he had been heading. “King Regis is waiting in the Atrium. Not in his son’s bedroom.” There was a slight touch of bitter venom to his voice but he continued forward without another word. The Captain kept his head forward, eyes trained on either side of them to ensure her safety. Or, more likely, her lack of further daydreams and escape. The people around her would prefer if she was tethered to the ground.

              The smell of sylleblossoms hit her before the open door of the atrium appeared at the end of the hall. The Captain stopped at the lip of the floorboards, where it shifted from marble to dirt and grass. He inclined his head towards the King.

              She wanted to rush towards Regis, to wrap her arms around his neck and bury her face in his chest like the child she used to be. He only ever wanted the best for her, as a father would for his daughter, and would have gladly held her. But she kept her back straight and her hands clasped at her front as she stepped inside. The heat prickled against her neck and moisture in the air was coated thickly in the sweet scent of blossoms. Regis sat in a wrought iron chair, rust gathering at the feet, his bad leg stretched out before him for some comfort.

              He turned his head as her shoes crunched fallen leaves and dried petals underfoot and Lunafreya could feel the weariness behind the crinkled smile and warmth in his eyes. The same soft blue as his son’s. Regis’ hand snapped out for his cane and he went to rise.

              “Please, stay.” The last thing she wanted was for him to injure himself further. The wall was his responsibility and…she didn’t want the man she thought of as a father to pass sooner than necessary. “Is there anything I can do to aid you, your Highness?” _Distance yourself from your feelings. You are a Princess and the Oracle._

              Regis laughed, deep from the bottom of his chest, and ran a hand through his thinning hair. “I fear that you think I’m getting too old, Luna.”

              The nickname rolled off his tongue so easily. One she rarely heard anymore. The heat of tears pooled in her eyes. How long had it been since her name was spoken with such softness and warmth? Only her brother ever showed her such kindness and even then…even then it was rare. She knelt in front of him, her skirts dampening in the tender grass, and reached for the frail hand that rested in his lap. “May I lend you some strength?” If only she could properly heal him. If only she could permanently improve his strength, to rejuvenate what he was slowly losing.

              “No.” He shook his head slowly and brought her hand to his lips. “You’ve done quite enough, my dear.” The joy was gone and he frowned; the lines at the corners of his eyes deepened and a touch of melancholy drowned out the softness of blue dusk. “Are you sure you will not join my son? Perhaps he needs a guardian as much as you.”

              “He has his Advisor, his Shield, and his best friend. More brothers than comrades. He’ll be fine, my King.” Lunafreya pulled her hand free and forced herself back into the stillness of her cage even though her heart longed to curl into his lap and weep. _You’ll never love his son like he deserves._ It doesn’t matter. She’ll be dead before he realizes the truth.

She smiled, as she had always done in times of troubled thoughts. “There is duty for me here. I must finish it first.” She stayed on the damp grass, legs tucked under her, and close enough to rest her head on Regis’ lap. Would his hands still have strength in them like they had years before? She could remember being curled up in one arm, Noct balanced on the other, half asleep and breathing in the scent of leather and night. Their small hands clasped together like siblings and Regis’ soft breathing between them as steady and strong as the wall protecting Insomnia.

              “Duty? Something from the Gods or are you planning on staying by my side?” The smile reached his eyes again, though tinted with sadness. The lines at the corners of his mouth seemed to lessen and the pressure on his chest had eased.

              She laughed and shook her head gently. “A bit of both, if I am to be honest.” The Gods wanted her here. A small pain had nestled deep in her bones; it was one she knew from the hundreds of times before. She was needed here. For something.

              “I…I wish that wasn’t so.” Regis’ shoulders sagged and he leaned into the seat. Even the grey in his hair was paling to white. The wrought iron of the chair wouldn’t keep him upright forever. Lunafreya knew that. He knew that as well.

              “Noctis will be fine. He will be safe out there. He’s your son.” _My betrothed, a man I have yet to learn how to love._ And, she knew, there wouldn’t be enough time to love him properly. To love him as he deserved to be loved. But she would do her best, because duty and fate had decided her course and she would follow it through. Perhaps the love of a sister would be enough.

              A deep chuckle rumbled through Regis’ chest and he shook his head. “That is exactly why I’m worried. Because he is _my_ son.” He motioned her back and grasped his cane. “If you are going to stay, I would like to assign you the best out of my guard. There’s too much politics here and…I am worried.”

              Lunafreya got to her feet. A puddle of dew had gathered on her dress, staining the silk with a hint of green. But she knew how easily it would be replaced and this moment would be swept away like the stains would be disposed of. She’d go back to quietly waiting for something to act upon, for guidance from the Blessed Six. Guidance she was still hesitant to follow but terrified to disobey.

              “I know you have spent your life under lock and key. I’m sorry I was never able to come for you. I…I never wanted to leave you but my son and…”

              She held out a single hand to stop him. “Do not let your guilt carry you, King Regis. There can be a thousand other Oracles but there will only ever be one True King.” She helped ease him out of the chair, hand lingering on his forearm for many long moments afterwards. If only they could stay here, in the heat and the flowers, and pretend everything around them was fine. If only she could be a child again with Noctis by their sides.

              “You have grown into a woman your mother would be proud of, Luna. Hold your head high my dear.” He rested a hand on her shoulder, gripped tightly. The weight of the ring struck her then. With the band bleeding into her skin, she marveled at the weight Regis and Noctis were expected to carry. Tears threatened to build in her throat.

              Lunafreya stepped back before they festered further. “I am sure you have duties to attend to. I think…I shall remain here, for a while yet.”

              “Of course.” He tucked his hand into the pocket of his jacket, straightened his shoulders as if he could hide the years building in his spine. “I’ll send a member of my Glaive here. Is that alright?” He clutched the top of the cane in one hand, fingers shaking. But the weakness was only portrayed in the grip of his knuckles and the slight buckle in his knees. _He is the King after all. A King does not show weakness._

              “…may I make a small request?” Her heart beat rapidly at her own words. Had she not just panicked at thought of discovery? Yet here she was, asking as if it was a flippant choice to Regis and a flippant choice for herself. Did she even have right to request his presence? She shouldn’t even be considering it. Especially after her whirlwind feelings.

              He waited, steel blue eyes warm and focused.

              The pressure of his gaze buried into her soul. She looked away, fingers brushing against a length of petals by her side. “Perhaps…Perhaps Nyx Ulric would be willing to be my guard? I heard of the soldier who died attempting to meet me and how close they were. It may…assist him if his duty is akin to theirs.” This had nothing to do with the butterflies in her stomach, the ache in her chest. It was simply a gift, a small one, which she could present to a soldier as a token of thanks.

              “Crowe Altius.” Regis nodded slowly. “A mission in her honour. I’m sure he would appreciate it. I’ll allow him the option but I will force him into nothing. Shall I leave you then?”

              “Yes. I believe I’ll just think awhile.”

              The King left then, without a word, and only the creaking of his leg and the crunch of gravel under his cane gave him away. She stayed, ankle deep in grass and blossoms curling around her hips, where she was.

              _Remember, you’re betrothed._ Lunafreya was perfectly aware. _He’s just a pretty solider boy. You already have a Prince._ But did she want a Prince? _Has it ever mattered what you wanted?_

              No. She supposed it never had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good grief, I'm trash at updating. It's fine because I love this and I'm gonna finish it because that sweet sweet future angst calls to me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "New duty, Ulric. Guard the Princess." 
> 
> After Crowe's death, Nyx is thrown back into the memories of war he struggles so hard to be free of. Lost, unable to be a hero, he's thrown back into the role of protector. A role he's failed to fulfill before. Twice. Now, he's stuck in a pit of self-doubt with a woman he cannot help but be attracted to. A woman who is already betrothed and destined for the Astrals whims. 
> 
> But here he is, pining like a school boy. He just can't catch a break, can he?

Nyx’s boots pounded through the corridor, hit marble hard enough to slam the thoughts running through his skull out of his head and into stone. His heart fluttered in his chest and he bit the side of his cheek between sharp teeth until copper laced his tongue. Drautos’ words played like a record, chipped and skipping in the same place. Over and over again. A broken record he kept playing in disbelief and prayed that the song would finish.

_“New duty, Ulric. Guard the Princess.”_

_“What?”_

_“You heard me. You don’t think, just do. Now get to it.”_

Was this more punishment? First guard duty, now this. Every single bone in Nyx wanted to be a hero. Every part of him screamed but he couldn’t save Selena, Crowe. He couldn’t protect Lib from himself. He couldn’t get out of his own head long enough to know that there were years before Crowe, years before the Glaive. Nyx was stuck, twisting and turning inside of himself like a snake determined to eat its own tail. A snake that might succeed sooner rather than later.

And now, here he was, thundering through the corridors of the Citadel as if daemon were at his heels, to protect a Princess in a guarded castle. _You don’t think, just do._ But wasn’t that what he prided himself on? Disobey orders, do the right thing, fight the man. But was there a _right_ thing to do? He was running down his own endless rabbit hole. A pitch black pit that threatened to eat him whole. But he kept running; he always kept running.

He knew he couldn’t keep her safe. He knew he would let her down. That’s exactly what had happened to everyone else he had been charged with protecting. _Hero_. A mockery of what he strived to be and what his greed threatened to devour. Yet he still tried to claw his way up to that moniker. He still tried to be something he so clearly wasn’t.

His lungs constricted against him as the reality hit him again. Whether he wanted someone else’s life in his hands or not, he was going to end up cradling the Princess’ in his arms. And Nyx wasn’t able to get his own prideful head out of his ass long enough to breathe, especially lately, so how the hell did he think he was going to be able to do his job? Did the Oracle really need protecting inside the very halls of Insomnia? She was safe here, whisked away from Niflihem’s clutches. Crowe’s mission may have failed but…

Crowe’s mission failed.

He was spinning, drowning in a tide as he hand clutched the railing for the stairs. Dark tracks of thick coiled veins twisted down her cheeks, too similar to tears trails to make Nyx think this was just an accident and that perhaps she went peacefully. He reached the landing, started his sprint to the atrium again. The ridged stillness of her bones, elbows and knees locked and bent at almost broken angles, haunted him. How sightless her eyes had been, a clouded film missing all of its beautiful honeyed brown. Crowe’s shoulders buried in the sharp, dark plastic of a body bag. As if real clothing had all but melted off her bones to be replaced by something worth even less than a rotting corpse. The scent of sylleblossoms hit his nose and was washed away by that of hot, dead flesh and decay. Her mouth, lips swollen, slightly agape, and the twisting of something alive in her mouth. Something probably eating away at her tongue like a bumble bee in a flower head or daemons hunting battlefields at night. The crunch of bones hit his ears with the snap of a flower stock, the knowledge that he was only saved by the skin of his teeth. Daytime would be in a few hours and if he could just stay hidden and –

_Enough!_ He tore himself away from his own thoughts desperately. He had a duty. It had nothing to do with Crowe, Selena. _It has everything to do with her._ It was a job. _Protecting a woman who, intentionally or not, killed your other sister._ The Oracle had nothing to do with Crowe’s death. She didn’t even know about it. _The privilege of Royalty._ She wasn’t even aware. _Are they ever aware of how many they kill in order to protect themselves? Does King Regis even care about the loss of one soldier?_

His boots crunched against the gravel path. When had he reached the atrium? Did it matter? He could taste blood on his tongue and rot in his throat.

Nyx pushed the bitter thoughts from his mind and scanned the towering blossoms that easily reached his hips for the Princess. He had seen the heaviness King Regis wore as a cloak, the pain in the King’s eyes as he sent his son away. The way the old man’s shoulder hunched around his chest and his fingers clutched at the cane he used for balance and strength. Though the scars were different, they were worn the same. The King knew what the loss of a thousand men felt like. He just carried the weight on his shoulders while Nyx cradled it against his chest.  

The difference was the consequences. Nyx ended up with nightmares that kept him awake for days, the King with a lackluster army and a Kingdom of dead men. Should Nyx really complain when he had a roof over his head and food in his belly? He wasn’t six feet under. _Tossed aside like a rag doll again, Crowe’s even lonelier now. Isn’t she?_

He took a few steadying breaths and clenched his shaking fingers into tight fists. He was alright. Memories of war were daemons of a different kind and he killed daemons all the time. He just needed to focus on this mission, focus on protection in guarded walls. A few more breaths and his head cleared enough that the details of Crowe’s face, of Selena’s corpse, faded to a dull blur. He filed the memories back, deep enough that he wouldn’t have to deal with them until he slept, and focused on the weight of his boots and shin guards and the heat of the summer sun on his black uniform. It settled him. A physical reminder that he was here and existing on this side of things instead of the other. He swallowed the panic back from his temples, into his throat and the bottom of his chest.

The scent of sylleblossoms tickled his nose and he forced it to take him back to the now. How was he supposed to act with Royalty? _Where was she?_ Relaying a report was a different beast, one he still struggled with mastering despite the many attempts he had been given. Was he supposed to talk to her?   _Seriously, this atrium isn’t that large. It’s just a few benches and some flowers._ Would he get caught in a sea of pale blue like he had the last time? Would he want to twist fingers in hair that didn’t belong to him and feel skin, never touched by harsh sun or well-aimed blades, under the tips of his fingers? Astrals, he remembered her from the party. A woman who wore her duty like a breast plate and carried a heaviness in her hands that didn’t belong there. He could feel the strain in her shoulders, see the hurt in her eyes as she mentioned Crowe. But did it truly matter to her or did she play the strings of his heart as easily as she played the Astrals’ courts and the earthy politics before her?

Hell, she was a princess either way. He shook the thoughts from his head. Pretty or worn, stuck up or down to earth, he was not about to become some jerk-off fanboy with a pinup poster on his bedroom wall. And she was betrothed. To the Prince. Of Insomnia. The. King’s. Son. _His boss._ The man who had lent Nyx power and a vested interest in the wellbeing of this woman and here he was, ogling her memory like a love sick teenager. _And he couldn’t even find her._

His boots crossed the threshold of gravel to grass and he scanned the still blossoms for any sign of her. No, he wasn’t going to be _that guy._ Nyx was going to do his job. He was going to do what he was good at, like he had always done. _You’re a pretty shitty hero. We already discussed this._ Mentally willing himself to shut up, he was on a mission, he scanned the garden benches for signs of the Princess. He craned onto his tiptoes, trying to see a spark of ash blonde among the lavender and blue that circled him like an ocean wave.

But the path was empty and the wrought iron benches, dew burned away into sun dried splotches, were empty. None of the grasses shifted with a subtle breathe. He was used to finding people in debris, how hard could a damn flower patch be? Nyx’s heart leapt to his throat. Day one and he had already lost the damn Princess. _Told you, shitty hero._ He already knew that!

“Sir Ulric!” A hand flashed up from a patch of towering blue before the panic could hit his head again. She waved, slender fingers glinting with silver rings. “I am here.” The hand swiftly disappeared back into the stillness of the sylleblossoms. The scent was thick enough to make him gag.

“You stuck?” First mission, pull the Oracle out of a mud patch and escort her to her chambers. How the hell would that look on a report? He crunched through the grass and dirt, flower stems snapping under the heavy weight of his shoes. Nyx winced. Was he really only good enough for destruction? Was he truly meant for the battlefield and nothing else?

He shook the thoughts from his shoulders as soon as he found her, curled in a bare patch of grass, with her knees drawn up to her chest and her chin resting on them. Her wrists clasped her elbows as if she was trying to keep herself contained in her own bones.

Lady Lunafreya shook her head. “No, I am not. I am just…enjoying the stillness I suppose.” She didn’t look at him, eyes locked on the thick green stalks in front of her. There was a weight inside her, Nyx could feel it. It was one that reminded him too much of his own. Lady Lunafreya looked as if she had taken every gift and curse the Gods had given her and buried them among the cracks in her ribs.

He settled down next to her, one leg stretched and the other cocked into a resting place for his arm. She had been a captive. Perhaps political prisoners weren’t treated so kindly in Nifliheim, princesses or otherwise. He wouldn’t know. He had been too busy fighting, recusing others, to have time to be captured. And Nyx knew he wouldn’t have been worth a rescue mission. If anything, it would have been easier to let him rot. He knew nothing important and he chronically disobeyed orders.

“So we’re setting up shop here then, my Lady?” If this was all guard duty was going to be, it would be boring as hell. _But at least you can rest._ Sure, and be haunted by his own hellish thoughts in the silence near the Princess.

“For the moment, yes. If…that is alright?” Her back curled slightly, as if she was struggling to pull herself into herself. If disappearing was her goal, she was doing a pretty solid job of accomplishing it. Even the white skirts of her dress were stained blue and green, the tips of her pale fingers spattered with blue petal dust. She’d pulled her shoes off, dug her toes into the dirt. One of the pins for her braid had come loose, shifting forward in front of her ear.

Nyx went to reach for it, fix it in place like he would have done for Selena, but stopped himself before the instinctual twitch from his shoulder to his hand could be noticed. “If you wish to stay here, who am I to stop you? I’m just a guard.” His heart thudded in his throat. What was wrong with him? What was it about her that set him so on edge? _But isn’t it pleasant?_ No. Not going there. Nope.

She smiled, just the corner of her mouth and a crinkle near her eye. “A guard who, from the little I’ve heard, is rather exceptional at combat. Despite the Captain assuring me of your issues with orders and habit of reckless endangerment.”

_Shit._ “Well –”

“No need, Sir Ulric.” Lady Lunafreya turned her head to face him and he realized how much taller he must have been. Even sitting she had to look up at him, soft bangs brushing the fine bones above her eyes and twisting towards her ears. She smiled a little more readily then and he could see the spark of it in the soft blue of her eyes. “Sometimes, you must be reckless to do what’s right. Or am I wrong?”

His breath was caught in his throat. He was drowning, spinning out of control because a woman _looked at him_. And being a princess was no excuse. He worked along-side royalty. This was his job. Even if it was an awestruck moment, he had seen plenty of pretty woman. He’d taken plenty home. So why did it feel like his heart was in a vice? Why couldn’t he get enough oxygen to his brain? _Why couldn’t he think past ocean blue and long lashes?_

Nyx swallowed, tried to drag his gaze away from supple lips and dimpled cheeks. He coughed into his fist but was still stuck, tail spinning, in her eyes. “I…no comment?” Was this all a test from the Captain? Put Ulric with a pretty princess and see how quickly the situation spun out of control.

Lady Lunafreya laughed. Soft, sweet, a sound blessed by the Astrals themselves. She turned to face the flowers before her and reached out a hand to brush the petals. “Perhaps I don’t know either. I’ve spent my whole life playing by someone else’s rules and now…Hm. I suppose there’s always something that needs to be listened to.” There was a bitter hint, over run by regret, in her tone as she got to her knees. She pinched on of the blossoms at the head, snapped it off with one swift twist, before settling back on her knees. She placed the sylleblossom in her lap. A single strand of hair ran over her shoulder and she cupped the flower in hands softened by years of peaceful captivity.

The weight was apparent then. Heavy in every knuckle and twisted in the very sinew of her structure. The knowledge the Oracle had but couldn’t share rested on Lady Lunafreya’s shoulders like a shroud of heavy water. Never enough to bend or break, but harsh enough to toughen skin and threaten bones. It left bruises that she hide under layers of lace and satin. She slipped the lock behind her ear and adjusted the loose pin of her braid. “But enough of that. I’m sure there is some sort of meeting I am supposed to attend and this dress is no longer suited for the occasion. Do you mind escorting me to my chambers?”

In that instant, the weight was gone. Nyx wondered how long the brittle steel of her spine would last. She got to her feet, slipped on heels that pulled her calves taunt but looked impossible to walk in. He caught himself looking, eyes trailing up to the grass stained hem of her skirt. _She’s the damn Oracle, betrothed, and you are not a fanboy. Knock it off._

“Of course, your Highness.” Nyx pulled himself to his feet. She reached the crook of his neck in her heels. With the back of his hand, he brushed the flowers stalks out of her path and bowed low. “After you.”

“My, what a gentleman.” She smiled, small and just a twitch of her mouth, and stepped onto the gravel path. The crunch of pebbles under her heels as she walked tore Nyx free of his own thudding heart.

Was she flirting with him? Hell, he wished she was. _She’s taken, dude. Put it away._ It wasn’t out he was just…stuck in that crooked little grin, in the spark of humour in her eyes. The weight on her shoulders that seemed so similar to his. He was stuck with the idea that perhaps, in a different time and place, he might have had a shot at a beautiful woman like her.

“Do you have any family, Sir Ulric?” She crossed into the hallway and Nyx realized he liked her better with a dirt stained bottom and dewy dress. He like her better when she was smudged and imperfect. It was as if she was with him, touchable, instead of a God-gifted Oracle intended for the Prince’s side. He could reach out and take her hand, pull her against him and see where the tides willed to take them both. _What are you thinking?_ Nyx didn’t know. He was too busy drowning in the curve of her waist and the crook of her neck.

But his head caught up to her words and he was drowning in a way that was much too strong and much too real. Drowning in waters that had threatened to take him before. Ones that had taken him before.

“Uh…no. I don’t.” Stilted, broken words left his mouth and his heart pounded against his ribs, harsh enough that he worried about warping with fractures. Chit-chat. Wasn’t small talk easy? Wasn’t this supposed to be a calming tactic to ease each other into security and trust? _Then why do you taste bile in the back of your throat?_ He didn’t know.

Lady Lunafreya nodded and her lips tugged into a frown. One that only gripped his heart in a painful vice. “I have my brother still. But I fear for him and where he is. I fear that he’ll end up doing something utterly stupid.”

“Men tend to be stupid. I think your fears are well founded.” He sure as hell knew that. How many times had he woken up drunk, in someone else’s pants, on someone else’s sofa? Hell, he was pretty sure he had drunkenly wore more of Crowe’s t-shirts home than she had worn his –

And the vice threatened to burst through his chest. He swallowed, pretended nothing was wrong, and clasped his hands behind his back. He was fine. This was normal. There was nothing wrong.

She laughed and for a second he felt relief in his lungs. “Would you know from experience?”

“I’m part of the Glaive. I’m surrounded by men and their stupidity. It’s a fact.” _And, depending on who you ask, I’m probably the biggest idiot of them all._

“Oh?” Lady Lunafreya looked up at him, her lashes shaded perfect blue eyes and shadows laced across the gentle arches of her cheeks. She grinned, crooked and sharp as a minx, “But not from anything you’ve done?”

“Well, I mean, that’s a given.” Nyx’s tongue was a swollen mess in his mouth, his heart a beating drum in his chest, and he didn’t know how he managed to spit the words out coherently. What was he? A damn school boy? _Keep it in your pants. Keep the panic in your chest._ Hell, he was trying. But she was getting to him with every subtle glance. And he kept thinking about Selena, Crowe. All the people he couldn’t save. Damn it, he was a mess.

She laughed again and it soothed every sore muscle in his body. “I assumed as much.” She gestured to the doors to her chambers. “I’ll be out in a moment. I’m not sure where I am supposed to go from here.” There was a bitter heaviness to her words; each one layered with more meaning then the last. Nyx knew what those sorts of words meant.

_She’s lost. Torn away from everything she knew and whisked away to some supposed safety. And while it may be better, does it really matter if everything is just as terrifying and unknown as it was before? At least she knew her prison. Now she doesn’t even know her home._

He cleared his throat. “Where ever you want, Princess.”

The door clicked closed, his last glimpse of her a glimmer of pale blonde and the smoothness of her delicate hand. His heart reached his tongue and he swallowed it back.

She was a Princess and he was a broken guard. There wasn’t a chance in hell anything would happen between them. He needed to let it go.

_But you keep thinking about the curve of her smile, how her hands would feel in yours, the way she pulls on strings in your chest that you thought you cut long ago._

Hell. He guessed he did.


End file.
